Jack Wilson
Ever since he was a child and began reading comic books, Jack loved the ideal of a 'Hero'. He would play games, as kids did, of battles between good an evil, and always thrust himself into the role of 'Hero'. Whether he was saving 'Princess Calasendra' from the evil clutches of 'Lord Galdeer' , or simply helping his mother around the house, Jack was determined to be the 'Hero'; to be the one helping others, so long as the cause was good and noble. This desire to be there hero, however, was not always an easy path. What was the saying; 'With great power, comes great responsibility'? Well, whether or not he had 'great powers', his sense of responsibility put him in the firing line or more than a little trouble as he got a bit older. Whenever he saw people getting bullied, he felt compelled to help them, to defend them. While he often managed that, he more than often took their beating from them. not being a strong fighter - and usually being greatly outnumbered - Jack spent nearly as much time in the school infirmary as he did in classes. More than once he even had a brief stint in hospital, usually with a broken or dislocated limb. Sooner or later he started taking lessons in martial arts, dabbling in karate, ki aikido and kendo, no never really mastering any of them. By the time he was 17 he had reached an 'average' grade in each of them. Though he was focussing more on his studies - chemistry and physics - he still found himself getting into more than the average number of fights out of trying to help people (mostly the 'weak' of the student body - so called geeks and nerds). It was one day in his chemistry class that his powers suddenly came to surface. While heating the reagents for an experiment, he read over the notes on what should be noticed when the reaction was complete: a change in colour, distinctive smell; the chemical name was mentioned and a diagram of the chemical structure was depicted beside it. Suddenly the contents of the conical flask he was holding morphed into the right colour and gave off the right smell. The reaction was complete, it seemed, and he had only just added it to the heat. It should have taken at least another several minutes to finish. The teacher walked past and eyed him suspiciously before giving him a half-hearted berating for skipping ahead of the stages given to the rest of the class and rushing ahead. Her words to him drew the attention of a few jocks nearby, who scowled at him for 'showing off'. He'd no doubt have an 'encounter' with them later. Sighing, he turned off the Bunsen burner and lost himself in the thought of what had just happened. He'd always wanted to be a hero... was he finally given the powers he needed to fulfil that goal? He'd have to investigate later... After school that day. The jocks, again. Watching him. Waiting. They were like hyenas, or vultures: watching their prey patiently, waiting for the right moment to pounce, waiting for him to be at hsi most vulnerable. Whether it be when he was alone, or when he was in an isolated area, or simply when he least expected it, he knew they would come for him again. It was their final year at college, and they seemed determined to get in all the torture they'd miss out on him in the last months they shared together. How sweet. Jack thought bitterly to himself as he rounded the corner on his way home, taking a short cut he knew had plenty of alternative routes off it. Plenty of escape plans. It helped to be fast on your feet, especially when your opponents were quarterbacks for the college team. Suddenly the world was spinning and Jack realised he had the earthy taste of soil in his mouth. Spitting it out, he realised his error. He had spared one last glance behind him at the jocks at the far off wall to see if they had made a move - they hadn't. They didn't need to. An ambush had been lying in wait, a single jock waiting for him around the corner, expecting him to be distracted at some point. Jack hadn't seen the fist coming at him, but he knew what happened now. He attempted to drag himself up from the dirt, but a solid kick to his stomach winded him, bringing him back down to earth again. He needed to escape, he needed a get out. He needed something. Anything, before the others showed up. Still hunched over on the earth, the jock towering over him obviously content with him being there while he awaited his team mates, Jack planted his hand on the ground. Soil, being mainly mineral composition, was easy to make into a dark metal. He shaped the substance in his mind, and formed a small black beretta from it. Rolling sideways, evading the submissive kick from the jock, Jack aimed up. The jock stopped dead in his advance, staring with fear at the gun in Jack's hand. "Get the hell away from me!" Jack shouted, spitting more soil from his mouth. "You f***ing crazy, man!" the jock shouted back before turning tail and running towards the direction his friends were expected to arrive from. Pulling himself to his feet, Jack took a single deep breath, trying to clear the breathless sensation he felt. Hearing 'Crazy sonna bitch's got a gun!' in the background was enough to press him, though. Squeezing the trigger with a smile, he let the 'gun' crumble back into dirt before running off on one of his little-known short cuts. Category:Original Characters (DNA Alternates) Category:Liberators